


The wheels on the bus go round and round...

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Porn, Public Sex, Scents & Smells, Sexual Fantasy, Slut Shaming, Stranger Sex, big dick, the only one slut shaming Sam is Sam himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 01:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15450816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Sam has ideas of how things should be and should be done. But sometimes these ideas don't correlate with what he wants and how he feels inside. Watching porn causes a fantasy that goes against his beliefs.





	The wheels on the bus go round and round...

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this sort of just happened. I had no original plans to include Tom in this story. Yet lo and behold. For those of you who don't read my other stuff, you might not be familiar with Tom. Tom was born because I thought "You know who's hot? Michael Fassbender. You know what would be hotter? Michael Fassbender hooking up with Sam Winchester." But since I couldn't be bothered searching out a character he plays that has a personality that matched what I wanted I simply created an OC that looks like him. ^^' Since then, Thomas 'Tom' Moore Rainsborough is Jessica Moore's dad in every fic I write with her in it and in every fic, he and Sam have a connection.
> 
> And before you fret, this won't in any way affect Sam's attraction to the Williamses or add any additional angst and pining. 
> 
> For those of you who know Tom since before, he and Grace have a much different relationship in this verse than in all the other ones since his scent prevented him from hiding his misery. In this verse they've got a beautiful platonic love based on honesty and respect. I didn't add backstory for him because if I end up writing him again here I can add it then, otherwise, it's unnecessary.

* * *

It’s early morning and Dean’s not at home. He left while it was still dark due to jitters for the new job and now Sam’s in bed channel surfing on the TV. His body is lax and content after having jerked off. He’s found a porn channel. Rather, Dean found it and showed it to him. There’s a difference between sex and sex. Porn on TV depicts what he and Lucifer did (Holy shit! I did that in front of an audience!), not polite knottings. Shameless sex of all kinds. Sam’s returned to the channel over and over. First of all - _girls_. Alphas or Omegas doesn’t matter, Sam finds them all kinds of gorgeous. From big, soft, chunky to thin and reedy and everything in between. Maybe one day one will join the pack? There was one scene he wished he could watch over and over. The guy knots inside of the girl and slowly pulls out so you could see the hidden, inner sphincter gripping the knot, preventing him from pulling out. Sam hadn’t known females had one, but it makes sense.

Then there’d been an O who’d been naked, blindfolded, who stood facing a wall outside, bracing against it legs spread wide, leaking slick. Any Alpha walking by could do what they wanted with her and it’s… it’s hot. Sam has all these ideas of how things should be. That video breaks every one of them and just thinking about how hot he finds the idea makes his cheeks burn with shame. But he’d closed his eyes imagining himself naked and blindfolded, maybe with his sense of smell removed by a visit to the DMV… not in public like that, but… maybe in a club. Yes, a club or a bar like Azazel’s. Anyone there could use him as they pleased. He imagined dicks, hands, mouths, breasts… all he’d have to go on is touch and sound. Maybe take away sound too so he _really_ wouldn’t know who was doing what to him. ...That would mean sleazeballs like Alastair could be fucking him without his knowledge… Despite that, the idea is still wildly arousing.

Thinking about it again makes him so horny he feels like crying in shame. He’s a prosperous Omega who’s supposed to be earned. He’s supposed to gasp in insulted horror and outrage at the idea of him offering himself as a free-for-all, submitting to whomever. And yet…

After the date Dean will say yes to them joining up with the Williamses (hopefully), he’ll get mated and the chance to experience something like this will be gone forever…

_No. Don’t even think about it!_

He changes the channel before he needs to jerk off again. There’s nothing of interest on. Infomercials, home shopping, reruns, news shows, cartoons. He breezes past a channel with a good looking Alpha smiling broadly at the camera and backs up to that channel again. Now there’s a photo of someone else and a rotten house on the screen.

“ _This week we’re meeting Jonas, a war vet who lost everything. Now he and his family of four live in this dilapidated two storey house and Jonas can’t even go upstairs to play with his kits since he lost his legs. They…_ ” There’s a description of how bad the living conditions are for Jonas, his mate and their two kits of which the youngest has cancer, then the handsome Alpha is back in the frame. “We’re gonna help this family out so they can start living again and stop surviving. Isn’t that right, bro?” he asks. Another handsome Alpha pops into frame with a mischievous grin. “You know it, bro!” They both grin at the camera. “I’m Brad,” the first one says. “And I’m Chad,” the second adds, and then they say the next line together, “And you’re watching, _The Bro-sters_!”

Sam gets stuck watching. The two Alphas are big guys, fit, built like quarterbacks. They’re good-natured and empathic and seem unable to say a full sentence without using the word ‘bro’. (Or sometimes ‘Bro’ **is** a whole sentence to them.) Sam’s smitten. They seem kind, and playful as kittens, but at one point there’s a car almost running over a child playing outside the neighbour’s house so Brad goes to talk to the driver. The guy punches Brad, and Chad is in full Primal war mode in a second, dropping fangs, flaring, and roaring in outrage running towards the man. The guy flees in his car and Brad just laughs at his partner. So ‘hot’ and ‘protective’ can be added to the list of good qualities the Bro-sters have. Sam cries happy tears when the family gets to come back and see what they’ve done with the house, making it wheelchair accessible, giving everyone room to indulge their hobbies, getting Jonas a computer where he can work from home since he can read and write. They’ve even managed to find an employer for him. And an insurance company donated the treatment for the youngest kit’s cancer. Sam cries along with the family, misses Cas, and acquires his first celebrity crush. Chad and Brad are just too precious. He decides he needs to show Dean this TV show too. If they always show reruns of it this time in the morning and Dean begins at 8 from now on, they can watch together before work.

* * *

The driver nods a familiar greeting as Sam steps up into the bus with his haul. He walks into the aisle and spots the owner of a familiar scent he's smelt on this bus many times before.

This isn’t the first time Sam’s smelt the guy, but this is the first time he’s seen him. He smells almost as good the Williamses but with a key difference - He’s mated. He smelled the guy before Raphael but sorted him as unavailable. It's the middle of the night and Sam's toting the huge gift basket. The guy's the only other passenger. The guy's older―maybe between 40 and 45―and has the same colouring as Lucifer. The same blue eyes, the same blond hair. But his eyes are warm and sympathetic in a way Luci's isn't. He's tall, has a wiry build, his scent bears the trace of perpetual sadness and he wears a necklace with the star of the One God, proclaiming him a Conservative. Their eyes meet. The guy gives him a close-lipped smile and Sam's pulse jumps. He looks like one of those Hollywood actors Sam's just learning the names of. What was it? Michael Fassbender? Yes, that's it.

Sam sits down in the middle of the bus, to the side and behind the guy so he can stare. It's quiet except for the engine sound and the radio on a low volume up by the driver's seat. The guy throws a look over his shoulder ever so often and Sam can see that he's scenting discreetly.

The indecent porno of the naked Omega in public is still on Sam's mind. The combination of the sexy scent of the stranger and the thought of faceless sex that's not initiated by the right procedures is making Sam horny. He can smell his own slick. He smells answering arousal from the front of the bus from both the bus driver and the hot, mated guy.

Maybe that's why he gets the wild impulse. Maybe that's why he, with a jackhammering heart, follows the impulse despite being sober.

He abandons the basket to walk to the place in the aisle where the guy's sitting. The guy follows him with his gaze, eyes questioning. Sam turns his back to him with cheeks and ears burning from shame, nerves and arousal. 

_I'm doing this. I'm doing this. Chances are I'll never see the guy again anyway. He smells so good! If I wasn't en route to be mated and he was single… but I am. Dean will kill me if he knew I offered myself up like this!_

He reaches back to unzip his Omega pants and then, _presents_.

He hears the guy suck in a hissing breath between his teeth. “ _Shit_. Kit, you're not in Heat. The One doesn't approve,” the guy tells him but the arousal in his scent tenfolds. Sam really doesn't want to be turned down. He couldn't live down the shame. Instead, he responds by resolutely undoing his belt with sharp jerks, letting his pants fall to pool around his ankles then stepping out of them. He hears the driver curse under his breath and the guy suck in another breath between his teeth.

“Don't be a pious fool, Tom. Offers like this don't come often,” the bus driver urges.

_Tom._

It would have been better for his peace of mind if he didn't have a name.

Sam feels a hand caress his ass cheek. “Are you sure about this, kit?” the stranger― _Tom_ ―asks.

Sam braces against the backrests of the seats he's leaning on, putting his ass more prominently on display. 

A finger is dragged over his hole making him let out a short mewl. He hears the sticky sound of a finger being sucked clean. “ _Shit_. Kit, you taste like the divine promise of heaven,” Tom declares hoarsely before he shifts to face Sam's offered ass. He leans in and suddenly Sam feels a hot tongue lick slick straight from the source. He closes his eyes and keens a prolonged purr, mewling when a finger is pushed in beside the tongue. He's getting rock hard, and when a second finger joins he fucks himself back on them. 

By the third finger, he finally realises he’s being prepped. “Don’t need… prepping,” he pants without opening his eyes. He knows the city is rolling by outside. Not many are out and about this time a night, but he still doesn’t want to see anyone seeing him.

“Are you sure about that, kit? I’m doing it for your sake.” Tom stands up, grabs one of Sam’s hands to pull it back towards his crotch. The erection Sam feels is… _Wow. Yeah, okay._

Sam huffs a flustered laugh, feeling out the erection under the fabric of Tom’s pants. Sam’s never really considered the size of anyone’s dick. The knot? Yes. But the dick? It’s of no consequence. Apparently, there are exceptions. “Keep prepping. Is, uh, is the knot proportional?” he can’t help but ask. Luci’s knot is big enough to almost be a problem. If this guy’s proportional― 

“No. If you manage to take me deeply enough for me to knot you, there won’t be any nasty surprises. Are you still sure about this, kit?”

‘If you manage’. Pfft! Challenge accepted. Sam lets out a demanding whine and wiggles his ass. Tom’s tongue and fingers find their way back. Sam opens his eyes for a second to note that the bus is passing one of its stops despite someone waiting there. A glance reveals that the driver divides his attention between watching them in the rearview mirror and watching the road. But he isn’t picking up passengers. It’s comforting. Sam closes his eyes again and pulls his shirts over his head, dropping them on one of the seats.

Naked. In public. Letting a stranger do whatever he wants. Sam's so turned on it feels like he might explode. He's getting sweaty. He thinks that maybe he's been stupid to opt out of prep. Tom's fingers and tongue could probably bring him to orgasm all by themselves. Tom keeps adding fingers. By all four fingers and the thumb to the inner joint Sam's keening continuously. It's not even a keening purr, just a long, greedy, suffering whine of _want_. Gone is the thought that Dean would kill him, that dad would take him aside for a serious talk about conduct and how he needs to act his rank, that Bobby would have his rifle up aimed at Tom until he backed off, or that Cas would growl at Tom until the right courting rituals were observed. Shit, but not even being on full display bothers him anymore.

He bites his lip just to realize he's dropped fangs. He's so turned on the pressure in his jaws is barely registering. He opens his eyes to see his flare reflect brightly, feverishly, on the window glass. Behind him is another, icy blue flare reflected.

Tom stands back up and takes two condoms out of his pocket. Sam's glad he doesn't have to think about that. He might not have cared and it would be dumb to make a habit of eating poisonous plants not to get pregnant. Tom opens one wrapper and reaches around to put it on Sam. He only manages to get the condom halfway down Sam's shaft before Sam comes from the stimulation to his dick, bucking and spasming. Tom lets out a breathless laugh and mutters 'shit’ to himself. Sam twists his head to look at him while Tom puts a condom on. “You still want this, kit?” Tom asks, lining himself up so the tip of his dick rests against Sam’s pucker. He’s so well prepped that the dickhead slips inside by mistake when the bus hits a pothole. Sam purrs an encouragement. “Okay, kit. Just tell me when to stop.” Holding onto Sam’s hips, Tom pushes in slowly. He’s got quite a girth, but it’s the length of his dick that poses a problem even after all the prep. Tom stops pushing just when it starts to hurt. It's not the burning pain of Luci's big knot being pulled out, but more of a stomach cramp as the dick pushes at something deep inside. Sam turns his head and sees that Tom isn't even fully sheathed. If he knots now he'll be knotting _outside_ of Sam. That's not good enough. Sam pushes back. “Careful, kit. I don't like to hurt my lovers,” Tom warns.

Sam growls at him and slams himself backwards, ramming the cock straight in.

It's a mistake.

Sam isn't prepared. Luckily, neither is Tom. Tom jackknives cursing “ _Shit shit shit_ ,” through gritted teeth, hugging Sam's midriff eyes squeezed shut. His nose smacks into Sam's leaking neck gland. Tom opens his mouth attaching himself, sucking and licking, milking it for more secretion. At the same time, Sam's body is trying to quell the belly ache with a big injection of endorphins. The combination of sensations short-circuits his brain. He fucks back on Tom's dick, pounding himself to a rhythmical pain that morphs into something his aroused and confused brain decides is pleasant.

He feels Tom's teeth elongating and getting pointy, fangs digging in without breaking skin while the tongue licks back and forth on the gland. Whatever courteous restraint Tom's been showing it's gone now. He's growling possessively, holding on to Sam thrusting ruthlessly now that Sam's taking him without visible qualms. Sam white-knuckles the back of the two seats he's holding on to not to be slammed up against the window, keening a _YES-MORE-GOOD_ purr. The bus turns onto an empty loading dock area behind a supermarket and stops. Sam wouldn't have noticed if Tom hadn't tensed up, hugged him to his chest and turned his head to roar a promise of death to the driver, flare getting much more intense.

Dean would approve.

“Relax, Rainsborough. If I don't stop here for a while you might be knotted when we reach your partner's stop,” the driver says, holding up the palms of his hands placatingly.

The window is a vague mirror with the darkness outside. Sam watches Tom. The pendant with the One God's star rests between Sam's shoulder blades when Tom's leaned forward like this, scowling fiercely showing his teeth at the driver. He's feral - _magnificent_. Without taking his eyes off the driver Tom tilts his head forward to mark Sam's throat and cheek with his temple. Sam thinks he should oppose the nonverbal ' _MINE!_ ’ Tom's broadcasting but the only feeling is a responding ' _YES YES YES!_ ’ 

Sam reaches down to jerk himself off while looking at the possessive, feral _stranger_ in the window. He rolls the condom all the way down before he starts stroking, pushing back rhythmically on Tom's huge dick.

He comes fast, once again bucking and spasming, squeezing around Tom's dick. He's barely aware of Tom hissing between his teeth, attaching himself to Sam's neck gland again. Once the orgasm subsides he's blissed out jelly.

“Any chance you could kiss?” the driver calls to them.

Sam whines when Tom pulls out, but then he's manhandled and spun around. Tom leans him against the side of a backrest, hoists one of Sam's legs around his midriff and guides himself in again. “Hold on to me, kit,” Tom tells him and hoists Sam’s other leg up too. Sam does as told holding himself up with his legs and wrapping his arms around Tom’s neck, supported by Tom’s hands under his ass. He can feel Tom’s shirt is soaked through with sweat. Tom fucks him mercilessly like that then finally stutters, knot catching on the rim. He gasps, shudders and stills. Sam’s smiling, that content and relaxed feeling taking over that only ever seems to come when he’s knotted. Then Tom leans forward and kisses him.

Sam’s startled but still opens his mouth to let the man’s tongue in. Kissing a stranger should feel weird, not set off a thousand butterflies. Sam’s generally not that big on kissing. It’s such an intimate act. Tom’s kiss is slow and explorative, syrupy like liquid sunshine, and it awakens feelings within Sam that he had no intention to feel for a nameless fuck - a _mated Conservative_ to boot. The star pendant Tom’s wearing rests cold against Sam’s heated skin in a reminder of why it’s a bad idea to let himself get carried away emotionally. Despite that, they keep kissing as the driver starts the bus up again. They kiss like a mated couple after true love-making, kiss drowsily like they’re siphon high and in private, only pausing when Tom comes again with another shuddered gasp. Tom marks him up and licks at the secretion flowing from behind Sam’s ears then go back to kissing him. They make out with eyes closed until Tom’s knot goes down, breaking for air and diving right back.

“Okay guys, the first stop is 5 minutes away so you better get ready,” the driver warns them.

Tom’s the one to stop, carefully letting Sam down on the floor again. “We got to get you dressed before your stop, kit,” he says with a breathless smile and reaches for Sam’s shirts. Sam huffs an equally breathless laugh and allows Tom to help him dress.

When the bus stops Tom helps him carry the basket off the bus and gives him one last kiss before he gets back on with a little wave and a smile.

Sam’s left standing with a fluttering heart and a slew of complicated emotions. But it's okay. Sam's never going to see him again. He's only ever smelt him on this bus anyway. All he has to do is catch the later or earlier bus and the temptation to be with Tom again will be gone forever.

* * *

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak of this to other people, Jason,” Tom says and sits down on the seat closest to the driver, still looking back to where they’d dropped the dreamy Omega off.

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. A student of yours, professor?” the bus driver asks.

Tom huffs a flustered laugh and turns his head to look out the windshield. “Thank the One, no! I'm a depraved man, Jay, but I'm yet to fall that far. It wouldn't just be a sin, it would be unethical and against the rules.”

“Just saying I wouldn't judge you if it was. I know college is full of newly presented Os enjoying their newfound sexuality. Anyone would be tempted. And I've seen you scent wistfully any time this guy rode the bus before you.”

“Not much passes you by, does it?”

“Driving the night bus would be a lot more dangerous if it did. I don't think I've ever seen a Primal hook up like a Prog before,” Jay muses, unwilling to leave the subject.

There's no doubt the young man was a Primal. Of good standing, to boot, measured by Primal parameters. Progs were more likely to be straight to the point in these matters. Tom’s been propositioned bluntly by them several times. ‘Fuck, you’re hot. Want to hook up?’ Primals, like Conservatives, require protocol to be followed. “He knew what he wanted. Who am I to deny him? Sorry for roaring at you. I know you Progs are sensitive about things like that.”

“Pfft. First off, I'm a Prog by choice, not rearing. Secondly, Progs are scared because they don't understand. Nobody could doubt your intentions when you told me to keep my distance. I knew very well you weren’t going to leave him to attack me.”

“I had no right to be that possessive.”

“Sure you did. The guy got off on it. And don't you do that thing you do where you mope and feel guilty about fucking everything.”

Tom smiles a self-deprecating smile. Riding the night bus can be lonely and boring. The side effect of that is that Jason, ‘Jay’, knows him too well. “I'll try not to. But those poor folks you neglected to pick up…”

“Pfft. There were only two and it’s only a 15-minute wait for the next bus.”

“You won’t get in trouble for this?”

“No. I radioed in that I had trouble on the bus and would be late, but that I could solve it myself. They’re happy whenever they don’t need to call for security to be dispatched. It costs them more money than a short delay,” Jay assures him. 

“You did? I didn’t notice.”

“No shit,” Jay sniggers.

“How late are we? I need to call Grace and tell her what happened so she doesn't worry.”

“Only 20 minutes. You want me to tell you who the guy is and where he works? I happen to know that,” Jay offers.

Tom bites his lip at the temptation. He’s been mooning over the guy since first whiff. “No,” he decides after some hesitation. “If he’d wanted me to know he’d have told me. Besides, I’ve got enough on my plate pining over my colleague at work.”

“The baseball coach at the college you work at?”

“That’s the one,” Tom confirms and takes up his phone to call his mate. She’s his best friend and he tells her everything. This is no different. He’s probably never going to see the kit again anyway...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> If I do end up writing Sam's escapades when he goes to college, Tom will resurface. In that case, Sam will be pivotal for Tom to finally get together with his other crush - another OC based on Henry Cavill. Because I thought to myself, "You know who's hot...?" Once again, their liaison won't add angst or put a spanner in the works for our pack, but it will make it quite awkward for Sam for a bit. ;)
> 
> Anyway, I'll answer the backlog of comments as soon as I get time. Thank you for leaving comments despite the sometimes lack of timely response. <3


End file.
